Act 2. Target Practice
"This is the one." Finch announced, nodding towards a big, black oak.
The ancient tree stood across the street, just opposite of the entrance to the wealthy neighborhood cul-de-sac. In other words, everyone would have to pass by here to get to the sugary treasures that lay just beyond. To it's back was a dark forest that extended farther than the eye could see. Finch spent most of his summer days hunting small rodents or looking for animal skeletons in those woods. He knew his way around and, if Devil Lad and him got into any trouble, they could easily duck away and hide there. But Finch didn't think this would be necessary. Although the old oak was stripped bare this time of year, he was confident that the branches and the dark of night would conceal the two tricksters.
"Suits me." Devil Lad replied with a careless shrug. He approached the mammoth tree, grabbed a low hanging branch, and hoisted himself up to a stable place. Suddenly, he peered off into the distance, alerted by the clamor of plastic pumpkin pales and giggling children. "C'mon! I hear someone coming."
"Uh…" Finch's eyes searched the tree for a place to grab onto. He sighed audibly, cursing his height to himself upon realizing there were no branches low enough for him to reach.
"What? You need a hand?" Devil Lad commented smugly, observing the air of irritation around the shorter boy.
Finch could tell he was smirking; it was obvious in his voice.
He extended his arm out to his friend, securely holding onto a branch to prevent him from falling.
"Here, grab my hand."
"I bet you're loving this, huh?" The skull-faced boy remarked dryly, grabbing Devil Lad's hand.
Though he tried to remain cool, Finch could feel his heart beating out of his chest when Devil Lad grasped his hand in his own. His hand was cold, colder than ice. It startled Finch, in fact, and prompted him to try and think back to another time they had even touched before. Nothing came to mind.
Devil Lad pulled Finch up, who grabbed the closest branch that came into sight.
"What is up with your hands? They're so cold." Finch asked.
"What? Huh?" Devil Lad seemed to be caught off guard by this strange question, but collected himself quickly, "It's an October night, man, what the hell do you think?"
"Oh, excuse me." Finch replied, making sure to exaggerate his voice so the sarcasm was clear.
"You're excused. So, should we go up another set of branches? Seems like we could get a better view and aim up there."
Finch nodded and they made their way up, settling down at the base of two thick branches that provided an excellent view. Below them, a gaggle of children galloped by triumphantly, proud to be the first on the scene.
"I guess we'll have to get those little brats on their way out." Finch remarked.
WHAP!
The sound of a glass marble against tender skin was often followed by an alarmed yelp and then a flood of tears as the sting of the welt reached its peak.
Devil Lad bit his tongue in an effort to silence his laughter as the two watched the children below panic and run off with their friends. Finch just sighed quietly, not as amused as his friend. His mind was elsewhere.
"This is how to spend Halloween." Devil Lad remarked, taking aim at a young boy dressed as a black cat.
"I guess…" Finch replied blankly just before the boy yelled out in shock.
The pair had been targeting kids with their deadly slingshots for about an hour now. Finch felt a slow decline in his enthusiasm as his mind sank deeper and deeper into a bleaker state.
The red head took aim at the next group of kids. Two girls dressed as witches and a boy dressed like a ghost- classics. He figured he could just shoot the marble into them and it would have to hit something. He released the glass bullet, but before he could guess whom it might choose, one of the witches screeched like a scared dog and grabbed her shoulder. Finch watched as her friend's gathered around her to examine the situation. He loaded up another marble, feeling rather impatient, and shot the ghost boy in the back. He too cried out in pain and surprise. The unwounded witch, who had sat down to look at her companions welt, shot up suddenly from helping the wounded and told her friend's to run for it, fearful she might be next in the line of attacks. They raced off in the opposite direction, abandoning their quest to enter the rich neighborhood.
Finch, who had felt Devil Lad's yellow eyes on him this entire time, finally caved and looked over at his friend who was sitting there propping his arm up on his knee and his face against his palm in a matter of unamusement.
"What?"
"What? What do you mean 'I guess'? This was your idea, Finch, I thought you were enjoying yourself."
"Well, I guess I've just been thinking…" Finch signed.
"Uh-oh." Devil Lad joked.
"No, seriously. I've been thinking."
Giggling broke the otherwise quiet moment as a small crowd of four or so children came into sight. It was the kids who had made it in first, Finch realized. He could see them approaching, barely able to hold their trick-or-treat bags. He searched the paper bag for the largest marbles, the shooter marbles, which he had been saving just for these costumed annoyances since they had escaped their fate earlier that night.
"About what?" the red masked boy prodded. He snapped his fingers in front of Finch's face, demanding his attention.
Finch looked over at his friend again. He didn't want to say it, fearful that vocalizing it would make it come true. He didn't want to ask why Devil Lad still came around, he didn't want to suggest they were too old for this crap, most of all he didn't want Devil Lad to agree and not come back next year. But he could sense it was too late to back out. The boy before him wanted answers, and, well, so did Finch.
"Why do you still come around every year?" he managed to ask, though his voice was unintentionally soft and shy. He avoided any eye contact, looking back at the kids as they came closer into range.
"Hello? It's Halloween; I always come around on Halloween. Did you fall on your head and forget or something?" Devil Lad replied, a tone of sarcasm evident in his voice.
"Yeah, but why? Halloween isn't what it used to be, man. It's not like we can't do this garbage any other day of the week…why don't you ever show up during the year?" Finch found it hard to stop himself now that he had opened up. His voice grew braver, almost irritated. He didn't like how Devil Lad seemed to want to avoid the topic.
Now the group of kids were nearly just beneath the tree. Finch tried to act cool, hoping his agitation wasn't too obvious. He took aim at the children, waiting for the perfect moment to strike, though his thoughts were truly a mile away.
"I'm busy, ok? Let's just say this is my one day off."
Finch felt himself snap.
"What does that even mean?" He barked automatically, turning to the red masked boy sharply, completely disregarding his approaching prey.
In his excitement, Finch didn't realize how much he was moving, and the paper bag of marbles that had been wedged between himself and the tree was now being squeezed past it's point of capacity. It ripped open from the side suddenly, a stream of glistening orbs spilling out of it. They clacked all the way down the tree, hitting branches on their way, and then finally hitting the sidewalk below. They barely missed the crowd of children, who collectively shouted out and began to scramble, bumping into one another, not sure what was happening. To add to the hysteria, a flood of light and a horn blared coming from the direction of the neighborhood. In their panic, the kids ran across the street and out of sight.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Finch snapped as he watched his long awaited prey disappear.
A busted up black car came into view, lurching forward as if looking for something.
"Hey, Finch, chill out. It's not a big deal, we can jus-"
Finch loaded up one of the shooter marbles he had pocketed earlier and aimed for the car's windshield. He didn't think, he just let his anger and the heat of the moment guide him.
"No, no, no! Finch, c'mon, man!" Devil Lad reached out to stop Finch, but it was too late.
The marble had hit its target perfectly, lodging itself into the glass of the windshield, creating a spider web of cracked glass around it.
The car stopped with a screech, so suddenly that the back end jolted a little.
"Well, great." Devil Lad remarked dully.
Finch remained silent as the car doors swung open and he felt his heart suddenly sink. The silhouettes of two figures emerged, one tall and skinny, the other short and fat. He knew immediately who it had to be.
"Bubbles 'n Squeak." Finished the red clad boy as he placed a hand to his mask, as if to acknowledge a headache.